


Man's Best Wingman

by Arewegroot



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fraction Hawkeye, I dont know how I should rate this, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-11-17 14:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arewegroot/pseuds/Arewegroot
Summary: orFive times Lucky's matchmaking skills failed to work on Clint and the one time it didn't.So this was loosely based on an OTP prompt that I found a while ago but I lost it so...paraphrasing: "Whenever we crash into each other you and my dog spend like an hour playing and its been happening for weeks but I dont know your name."





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so honestly I've been meaning to write some fanfics for Marvel ever since 2012 but I never felt that confident in the fandom and in my writing to do so. So in a way this win be my breakthrough into this little fandom and it just so happened to be an Ironhawk fic instead of that Stony fic I wanted to write back in 2012.
> 
> (revised on 7/17/17)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one time at the park

Clint never had a pet. How could he?

His father was an alcoholic who would beat him and his brother for no real reason other than alcohol induced rage. His mother, he suspects, had felt it would be cruel to put another innocent life in the way of her husband’s abuse. And in all honesty the idea of having an animal companion never was in his head when he was a kid. There was no time to process the thought of having one, while he and Barney tried to hide from their father--even when they knew it would just make the outcome a lot worse.

Then they never got a chance to have one after their parents’ accident. Their foster parents didn’t want two farm kids to begin with, so asking for a dog was out of the picture. And later when they ran off to join the circus the thought of one was a joke to even think about, considering that they traveled with elephants and horses. So it was an eye opening moment when he realized that he had missed something as a kid--one of many--when he finally had Lucky by his side.

It was really nice having a little buddy around while he was in his apartment, especially after a mission had gotten...difficult. More so when the darkness crawls onto his bed and down his throat. When his lungs seem to not be able to work like lungs should and his blankets start to feel heavier than they really are. When his eyes are wide open but his limbs seem to have turned into lead and his mind starts making things--that aren't really there--appear at the corner of his eyes. It is surprisingly helpful to have a wet slobbery tongue with awful breath lick his face, as if Lucky knew what he was going through.

Clint might have never had a pet before or ever really thought he wanted one, but he’s really happy to have Lucky by his side.

Of course with the great benefits of having a doggy companion came really bothersome responsibilities.

Like having to go to a public park so Lucky could get some exercise instead of staying home and taking a nap Clint felt he rightfully deserved. His eyes were heavy and his body still ached from the last Avengers mission. He might not have fallen off a building like last time but he did manage to get a bruise along the left side of his ribcage, from where that giant metal bumble bee had knocked into him.

Clint bit back a groan as he threw the green tennis ball, which Lucky happily chased after. He had thrown it over the hill, in hopes that he would have a small break. He took a seat on the bench that he had seen when he and Lucky had arrived. Clint had planned to play fetch with Lucky from a comfortable position from the old park bench, but Lucky would have none of that. The only way that Clint was able to stop Lucky’s barking (tantrum) was to throw the ball while he was on his feet.

Clint sighed happily, feeling very content, finally giving his tired legs and back a break. His shoulders sagged and Clint’s neck seemed to lose the ability to hold up his head.

“I’ll just wait here for him.”

**Three minutes.**

Maybe he threw it farther than he meant to.

**Five minutes.**

No, that’s ridiculous. He never miscalculates a shot, let alone a simple throw of a tennis ball. 

**Ten minutes.**

Maybe he was just messing with another dog.

**Twelve minutes.**

Maybe someone stole his dog.

“Lucky!” Clint screamed, jumping up from the bench and scrambling up the hill. “Here boy!”

Tripping on his feet, Clint made it to the top of the hill and started to scan the whole park. His heart was pounding hard and fast in his chest but Clint forced his breathing to slow. It wouldn't do him or Lucky any good if he started to panic. He was about to run down the hill to the other side of the park when he heard a familiar happy bark come from the opposite side.

Lucky was happily bouncing towards the green tennis ball that Clint had bought for him at that overly pricey pet store. Once he managed to grab the small ball with his mouth, Clint’s eyes followed him as the tan dog made his way back to a guy that seemed very overdressed for the park. It wasn't until the man’s upper body turned with the movement of his throw, that he saw who it was.

“Stark?”

There was Tony Stark--his teammate--playing with his dog, in the park, while he was in a (what Clint is for certain to be) a well fitted, handmade suit that probably cost more than what S.H.I.E.L.D pays him.

Clint cautiously made his way down hill, fighting the pull of gravity as he did. He shoved his hands into the middle pocket of the hoodie he had chosen to wear that day, as he walked towards the billionaire. Once he was behind Stark he cleared his throat, so the man would know now that he was there, before speaking.

“Never pegged the park being your type of scene, Stark,” Clint said, causing Stark to look over his shoulder, as he straightened up from having bent down to pick up the ball Lucky had dropped at his feet.

“Merida,” Stark said, turning around to face Clint. “Nice to see you too.”

Lucky, who had finally noticed that Clint had reappeared, was happily wagging his tail and barking up a storm. Clint couldn’t help the grin that made its way towards his face.

“Hey there buddy,” Clint said, kneeling down so he could greet his furry best friend.  Which ultimately caused him to get a face full of slobber. “You really gave me a scare there.”

“So I’m guessing this little fur ball,” Stark said with a laugh as Lucky got on his hind legs, trying to get the ball that Stark was holding out of Lucky’s reach, “is your dog then?”

“Yeah, this is Lucky,” Clint said, getting up from the ground. He tried to control the quiver of his tired, sore legs because he didn’t want to show that yesterday's mission had really done a number on him. Clint had been able to weasel his way out of having to go see any sort of medical assistance that Stark or the city provided. He hadn't had any major injuries visible at the time, and the bruise had just started to form when he had gotten home.

“You never mentioned you had a dog,” Stark said, finally giving Lucky the green ball.

“You never asked,” Clint shrugged. “But seriously, Tin Man, what made you want to visit the commoners?”

Stark stopped scratching Lucky behind the ears before shoving his hands into his pockets and nonchalantly leaning on one knee.

“Had a meeting with a possible investee,” he said, motioning somewhere on the other side of the park with his chin. “This cute little family owned restaurant that opened up a while back. I found it when I was running from a board meeting.”

“I thought you only invested into scientific breakthroughs or something,” Clint said.

“I’m not limited to just investing in the new iPhone, you know,” Stark said. “That's not how business works.”

“Wouldn't know,” Clint said, a smirk coming onto his face. He and Stark, even though they weren’t friends per say, always managed to have some friendly sass battles. “I'm just a small town farm boy, remember?”

“Is that why you haven't taken up my offer about moving in?” Tony said. “Still trying to figure out how to get to Kansas?”

“Aww, Stark,” Clint mumbled. They’ve had this conversation before and Clint had been giving the same answer. Living in a big fancy tower that belonged to a billion dollar company, if he was honest, sounded like an amazing idea but Clint never took up Stark’s offer. He had his apartment and yeah maybe it’s nothing compared to living in Stark Tower (“Avengers tower, Barton.”), but it was his; not only that, but he had to stay to make sure his people didn’t get hurt. “We’ve been over this.”

“I know, I know,” Tony said, raising his hands in surrender. “You can’t. I just wanted to see if the answer would change this time around.”

And that was the end of Stark asking him to move for the rest of the day. Clint had suspected that they would have separated and gone to their respective homes but Lucky was having none of that. He started whining and pulling on his leash when Clint tried to lead them home.

Stark kneeled down, grinning while he allowed Lucky to lick his face. Which was a bad idea especially when Clint saw Lucky’s tongue go into Stark’s mouth (“Gross.”), but Stark only laughed it off.

“I’ll see you around, buddy,” Stark said, scratching Lucky behind his ears. “I promise.”

And just like that Lucky calmed down and with a last lick to his new friend’s face, he and Clint began to walk home.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one time at the tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long for the update

Clint didn’t have the best luck when it had to deal with romantic relationships. He had been married for years to Bobbi but that had ended in divorce. After that there was that awkward thing between him and Natasha but that ended with them understanding that it was a bad idea to indulge whatever _that_ was. Then there was his last attempt with Jessica, and unsurprisingly that had ended pretty badly too.

 

 _“You’re a **bad person** Clint Barton. You’re so wrapped up in **hating yourself** that anybody starts to **care about you** or, god forbid, you start to care about **them** —you push them away.” _Jessica had told him.

 

Clint is starting to think that she might have been on to something. Maybe Clint _did_ have some sort of paranoia about the whole mess that usually followed having feelings for someone, let alone the ones that follows after falling in love with someone. Maybe it was the vulnerability that was caused by those feelings that usually made him flee away from them. Maybe his insecurities and self-loathing tendencies really did hold him back from getting close to anyone in the romantic sense.

 

So Clint hadn’t dated anyone since Jessica; hasn’t tried to. In the beginning it had been because of the fact that the break up was fresh and Clint _had_ felt something for her, and those types of feelings don’t just…disappear. Not right away, at least.

 

“You, sir, need to get laid.” Kate said from where she was seated at the dirty kitchen island.

 

“Aw, Kate…” Clint groaned out from his place on his sofa.

 

It had been a week since the last Avenger’s call and the bruise that Clint had gotten from the giant metal bee was starting to turn yellow, and according to the article that he had found via google it meant that his bruise was nearing the end of its life cycle.

 

Although that did not mean that it didn’t hurt when he would move around. That is why he had been laying on the couch since yesterday; he hadn’t even moved to shower.

 

“Do we really need to talk about my love life right now?” Clint asked, his hand digging through a bag of doritos.

 

“Yes, we do have to talk about it right now—" She twirled around in her seat and pointed at him with what Clint guessed to be his boomerang arrow—“because you, sir, currently do not have one.”

 

“Why can’t you just leave me to my singleness in peace?” Clint whined.

 

“Because you’re getting older, Clint.” Kate said. “And I would really hate to see you die alone.”

 

“I’m not alone. I have Lucky.” Clint mumbled as he let Lucky lick his orange dust covered fingers.

 

“You have to get back out there,” Kate said as she jumped off her seat and walked over to Clint. “You can’t be so scared.”

 

“Like you’re one to talk.” Clint said, defensively. “What about you and that America girl, hm?”

 

“This isn’t about me!” Kate hurriedly said. “This is about you.”

 

Clint could feel a rant about his pathetic love life coming up from Kate’s esophagus when Lucky saved him with a loud whine. The tan dog had the purple leash that Clint had bought him from that little pet shop, a week after he had brought Lucky home, in his mouth. Which was a clear sign that he wanted to go on a walk.

 

“Oops,” Clint said, interrupting whatever Kate was about to say. He got up from the couch far too quickly than he should have and had to bite back a groan from slipping out. He kept his cool and nonchalantly bended down to take the leash from Lucky.

 

“Sorry, Kate,” Clint said, not even trying to sound sorry. “But you gotta go when you gotta go.”

 

“What? Clint, wait!” Kate yelled after him. “You haven’t even showered!”

 

“Bye, Kate!” Clint said, slamming the door in her face.

 

He’ll probably regret doing that later.

 

 

“How about Lauren from Stark’s R&D?”

 

Clint groaned as he dodged the kick that Nat had aimed to his head and then threw a jab at Natasha’s abdomen. She recovers quickly and places a good distance between them. The two of them circle around each other, fists up.

 

Clint had gone over to the Avenger’s tower for the weekly training matches he had with Nat. The team had a training schedule set up (it being Cap’s idea) where they would rotate between teammates so they could familiarize themselves with each other’s fighting styles and possibly pick up on some new moves. Clint and Natasha have been training together for years. They knew the other’s moves and tells better than only one else on the team but that just meant that neither had to pull their punches during their sessions.

 

Clint and Natasha had been at it for an hour now and both have managed to land a couple of good hits on the other. Natasha had a well sized bruise on her cheek from where Clint managed to get a right hook in. Clint, himself was sporting a split lip, a bleeding cut above his eyebrow, and from what he could feel, a black eye.

 

Natasha was the first to move forward, starting up their pace again. Clint and Natasha both rapidly started throwing and dodging hits. It seemed like the match was going to last for another hour until Natasha managed to dodge the punch Clint had thrown and instead grabbed his arm, twisted, and threw him over her shoulder. Quickly pinning him down with her knee.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

“Okay,” Natasha panted out. “How about Miguel from marketing?”

 

“Aw, Nat…” Clint groaned out from under her. “C’mon…you should go back to playing matchmaker for Steve. That was a lot less annoying…and a lot funnier.”

 

“I don’t know,” Steve said from the sidelines. He had been watching their training session while keeping Lucky—who hadn’t wanted to be left alone back at the apartment—company. “I think this is _hilarious._ ”

 

“Yeah,” Clint said. “In a sadistic way, you sick fuck.”

 

Steve shrugged. “Guilty.”

 

Natasha sighed before getting off of Clint and back up on her feet. She offered a hand to Clint, which he took gratefully.

 

“I wouldn’t have to if you stopped ignoring my suggestions,” She said. “All the people I’ve mentioned would all _love_ to go out with you. They would all say yes.”

 

“Maybe that’s why I don’t ask them,” Clint said.

 

“That’s what I told her too,” Steve chimed in.

 

Natasha rolled her eyes at both of them.

 

“What are you afraid of, Clint?” She asked as Clint started to pack up his duffle bag.

 

“Clowns.” Clint said. “Which is ironic since…you know, since I grew up in the circus.”

 

“ _Clint._ ” Natasha said, serious.

 

“ _Natasha._ ” Clint mimicked before sighing. “Look…I gotta go. C’mon, Lucky.”

 

Steve and Natasha watch as the archer and his dog got on the elevator, leaving the two of them alone.

 

“You up for another couple of rounds in the ring?” Steve asked.

 

“Yeah,” Natasha smirked. “Maybe you’ll win a match against me for once.”

 

////

 

Clint closed his eyes and leaned against the elevator’s handle bar. Natasha—and to some extent, Steve—have been trying to set him up with co-workers, non-coworkers, friends, and with complete strangers. Which was perfectly fine and something he really appreciated in the past, but with Kate trying to do the same thing every time she came over to the apartment (which seemed to be turning into a daily routine), it was starting to get really annoying.

 

 He didn’t know why those two were so adamant about Clint going back into the dating scene. Clint has never been the playboy type so the fact that he wasn’t automatically going out after his last breakup shouldn’t have been that weird to Nat and Kate.

 

“Is there something on my face?” Clint asked, looking down to meet his eyes with Lucky’s. “Do I look more like a loser than usual?”

 

He only got a happy tail wag and a lick to his hand as an answer.

 

“Thanks, bud.”

 

Clint looked up to watch the light flash between the numbers as the elevator made its way down to the communal area. The tower had around two sets of eight elevators for the many different levels of floors that was usually filled to the brims with busy workers.

 

Stark had added another set of elevators on the last Stark Industry floor that allowed exclusive access to the Avenger’s communal area to whoever “knew the secret handshake”. Then in the communal area there was a second elevator that went to floors that were filled up studios for those who decided to take Stark up on his offer.

 

The elevator doors slid open, showing Clint a rare sight of an empty communal area. Clint started to head towards the other elevator when Lucky bolted out of elevator and ran down a corridor that connected the room to the kitchen.

 

“Lucky, nooo,” Clint whined. “Come back.”

 

Clint waited for a bit, sighed and started to follow Lucky.

 

“Lucky, c’mon we have to go…“ Clint trailed off when he was greeted by the sight of a Tony Stark sitting on the floor while petting Lucky.

 

Clint suspected that the man has been awake for more than twenty four hours in his lab based on how greasy the billionaire’s hair looked, the dark circles under his eyes, and the fact that he was dressed in a tank top and sweat pants.

 

“Hey,” Stark said. “You look like ass. I’m guessing Natasha won.”

 

“What gave it away?” Clint asked sarcastically.

 

“You have that Nat-attack after glow,” Stark said. He got up from the floor and went over to the freezer, grabbed the frozen bag of peas that was specifically used to cure black eyes and threw it at Clint. Clint catching it effortlessly.

 

“Thanks,” Clint said, applying to his swollen eye.

 

“Sit down,” Stark said, motioning to the large kitchen table. “I’ll patch up that thing on your face.”

 

Clint silently nodded his thanks before taking a seat, placing his hand on top of Lucky’s head when the dog rested his head on his lap. It was an old agreement that was formed during the first year of them being an actual team. Whenever one of them got hurt they had to let the team member that managed to get a look at of the injury to patch them up.

 

Stark came back from getting the first aid kit and a damp rag. He placed the first aid kit on the table before starting to clean off the dry blood from Clint’s face.

 

“Can’t let you leave the tower looking like this,” Stark said. “Don’t think SI can handle accusations of domestic abuse.”

 

“True,” Clint said. “Especially with all those baby mommas you have out there.”

 

Stark gave him a small smile that was tagged along with a chuckle as response to what Clint said. It was one of those genuine smiles that he only really had when he was around the team (especially when he was around Rhodes and the spider kid).

 

The two of them went back to a comfortable silence as Stark finished patching him up.

 

“Heard that Nat’s trying to get you to go back into the dating scene.” Stark said as he finished closing the wound with the medical tape that was in the kit.

 

Clint sighed. “Yeah.”

 

“Don’t get too upset with them,” Stark said as he put away the first aid kit. “She’s just trying to help you.”

 

“Yeah,” Clint sighed. “I know but it’s like they think that I’m some depressed because I’m _not_ looking for some sort of relationship. I appreciated what they’re doing but I don’t know…it’s more annoying than helpful.”

 

“Yeah, I understand,” Stark said. “That’s why I never told any of you about me and Pepper ending things.”

 

“What?” Clint asked, shocked. “You and Potts broke up? When?”

 

Stark hummed in thought before he finally answered. “About four months.”

 

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

 

“It was something I just had…to deal with by myself,” Stark said. “I knew if the word got out I’ll be going through what you’re going through. So I just wanted to tell you that…it’s okay to take your time to get over this. It’s okay to not be going out in a million dates with a million different people.”

 

The two of them weren’t exactly close. Whenever the two of them _would_ have a conversation, those conversations would only really ever consist of jokes and teasing between the two. The two would always bicker and tease at each other so often on and off the battlefield that animated versions of themselves had started to bicker and tease each other, but they had never had an actual serious conversation. Especially one about something so personal.

 

“Thanks…thanks Tony,” Clint said. “Really...I mean it.”

 

Tony gave Clint the smallest, most sincere smile he’s ever seen on the man’s face.

 

“Yeah…come on,” Tony said motioning to the elevator with a nod of his head. “I’ll walk you back to your place.”

 

Ever since then, the two didn’t notice the sudden but easy transition that they made from “Stark” and “Barton” to “Tony” and “Clint”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are the greatest thing in the world to me


End file.
